


End Days

by RubberDuckSoup



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Feels, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fix-It, Gay Bucky Barnes, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steve Needs a Hug, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-29 13:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberDuckSoup/pseuds/RubberDuckSoup
Summary: Bucky and Steve figure some stuff out in the days between the defeating Thanos and Tony's funeral.





	1. Day Zero

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to make myself feel better about how Endgame ended.

It’s been five years. That’s what the man with the glowing hands says. All around him, the news is met with confusion and dismay, but Bucky doesn’t care. He’s lost time before. There’s only one thing he cares about.

“Where’s Steve?”

He’s squaring off against Thanos’s entire army by himself because of course he is.

Bucky follows the Wakandan forces into the fray. It’s a nightmare, but what battle isn’t? Steve is at the center of it but Bucky can’t get to him. So he puts his head down and fights. He doesn’t know if there’s a plan but he’ll fight until they win or he dies. Again.

They win.

It happens suddenly. The enemy forces start dissolving into ash. It’s just as bewildering and disturbing to witness as it was to experience. There’s a hush over the battlefield and then word spreads. It was Stark. He finished Thanos and the stones finished him.

Bucky walks toward where Steve and a few others are gathered. He slows, freezes. This is not his place. They’re standing over Tony Stark’s body. This is not his place.

“I was there,” a woman in a version of the Iron Man armor says through tears. “I knew it would happen. I was afraid he’d go and I wouldn’t—at least I was there.”

“You were. He knew you were.” An enormous man with green skin pats her shoulder. If Bucky had to guess, the green guy is Banner. No wonder they kept trying to get him to “do his thing” before.

Steve is trying to comfort a teenager. Looks like the same kid who laid out both Bucky and Sam in Berlin. The kid is inconsolable but Steve is trying, despite looking equally devastated.

“I’m sorry. I have to—I’m sorry.” The man who brought them there pushes his way to the center of the group. Moments later one of Stark’s gauntlets is floating over their heads in a protective bubble. “Just until we determine what to do with the stones,” he says.

The woman in the armor says something to Thor, Bucky thinks it’s Thor based on the outfit, who picks up the body. He carries it away. Sam goes to Steve, setting a hand on his shoulder. Steve turns and smiles a weary, grief-stricken smile. He throws an arm around Sam's neck.

“Thanks,” he replies to whatever Sam said. He spots Bucky, lets go of Wilson and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky laughs, not sure what to do with such naked emotion. “Good to see you.”

“I watched you die,” Steve says, not releasing him.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it again.”

Steve lets go, laughing and wiping at his eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Barnes, your ride might be leaving,” Sam interrupts. Bucky looks up. The Wakandans are walking through the reopened portals. If it’s really been five years, T’Challa is going to want to get back home ASAP and figure out what’s happened in his absence.

“Oh.” Steve looks over his shoulder. “Do you have to go right away?”

“I can stay.” Bucky shrugs. He has no obligations, as it happens. His farm is probably in ruins. He hopes someone took care of the goats while he was gone. If that’s not the case, he doesn’t want to know just yet.

Steve regroups with his teammates. The ones who have been with him since the Snap and the ones who just returned.

“We’re going to figure out our next moves together, but not until tomorrow. You both can stay at my place tonight,” he says.

They get into Steve’s car. Wilson sits in the passenger seat, making calls, letting his family know he’s alive. Bucky sits in the back, staring out the window. The streets are a mess, junk piled on corners and boarded up windows in nearly every building, but there are people everywhere. Smiling and waving at each other and yelling excitedly into their phones. It’s a party atmosphere.

“Brooklyn,” Bucky whispers, suddenly recognizing the streets.

“Been a while huh?” Steve grins at him in the rearview mirror. “I moved back not long after… Needed some, I don’t know, continuity? Not that it’s much like the old neighborhood.”

“It’s different but the bones are the same.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.

He leads them to his apartment on the third floor of a walkup. It’s twice the size of their old place, but still pretty small for the three of them.

“One of you can take the guest room and one can have my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sam protests.

“You died,” Steve argues. “Anyone comes back from the dead gets a mattress and clean sheets in my home.”

“Fine, but we’ll make dinner.”

“Will we?” Bucky asks.

“We will,” Sam says. “Barnes and I will do the cooking. You take a shower. You need it.”

Steve looks at his filthy hands. “You have a point.” He leaves the room and a few minutes later they hear water running. They wash their hands in the kitchen sink. Sam starts digging through the fridge and pantry and sets Bucky to work chopping vegetables.

“How are you feeling about the being dead for five years thing?” Sam asks.

“Don’t know. Seems like it was harder on the ones who survived. You?”

“I’m not sure about what it says about my priorities that I’m here instead of at my mom’s place. But this is where I want to be.”

They eat Sam’s stir-fry and with a little prodding, Steve tells them how the Avengers brought half the universe back to life.

“Soooooo then I fought myself.”

“Of course you did,” Sam and Bucky say in unison. Steve shrugs.

“He thought I was Loki. Almost cleaned my clock. I had to use the Mind Stone to knock him—me out. Anyway, we got the Mind Stone and the Time Stone but Loki escaped with the Space Stone. So Tony and I…”

It’s a hell of a story, funnier than Bucky expected. Until he gets to what happened to Natasha.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and gulps. “It’s hard to talk about. We knew that Thanos killed his daughter when he took the stone, but we didn’t know that the stone required a death. We… it was Thanos. He’s awful. If I’d known…”

Bucky knows what he’s almost saying. If he’d known they had to sacrifice someone to get the stone, he would’ve been the sacrifice.

They eat in silence for a while. Eventually, Steve continues. “We did it. _She_ did it. We had all six stones. You know the rest. Bruce used the gauntlet and brought all of you back. Then Thanos attacked.”

“Yeah, how exactly? I thought you guys killed him five years ago?” Sam asks.

“Nebula says it was a Thanos from earlier in the timeline. 2014 I think.”

“How does that not break everything?” Bucky read his share of science fiction as a kid. Admittedly, every story explained time travel differently but that sounds wrong. “If 2014 Thanos died, how could he do what he did in 2018?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. You’re asking the wrong Avenger. That’s Tony’s thing. _Was_ his thing.”

They finish dinner. Steve changes the sheets on his bed for Bucky before crashing out of exhaustion on the couch. Bucky lies awake. Five years. Steve didn’t say a word about what he was doing for five years. Probably what he’s doing now. Blaming himself and pretending to be okay.

He drifts off but wakes again a few hours later. He wanders into the kitchen for a glass of water, startling someone at the table.

“Steve?” Bucky flips on the lights.

“Shit,” Steve mutters. He’s obviously been crying. “What are you doing awake?”

“It’s noon in Wakanda.” Bucky moves his hand up to cover the scars on his shoulder. It’s strange to be standing in front of Steve in just his boxers. Not that Steve hasn’t seen him in less, but that was several lifetimes ago. Back when they were together so much Bucky thought of Steve as an extension of himself. “What are you doing awake?”

He pours two glasses of ice water. Steve wipes his eyes and makes a sound that could mean anything.

“Oh yeah, that explains it.” Bucky sits across from him, sliding a glass over.

Steve doesn’t quite manage a laugh and takes the glass. Bucky waits.

“We won,” he says.

“You don’t seem too happy about it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I am. I’m so happy. It’s all I’ve thought about for five years. Undoing it. Bringing everyone back. I knew it was impossible and I tried to help people accept that and move on. But I couldn’t stop thinking, wishing. Then it happened. You’re back. So is Sam, and Wanda, and everyone. You’re all back.”

“But?”

“Natasha is gone. So is Tony. Having you all here. It means everything but—” He starts to choke and reaches for the water. “I’m sorry. “

“Don’t be. You lost two friends. Be sad. It’s okay.”

“It’s not just that. That’s awful, it is,” Steve pauses, seeming to consider his next words. “I saw something when I went into the past.”

“What did you see?”

Steve looks into the distance for a minute. “Wait here, just for a second.” He stands and walks out of the room, returning with a shoebox. He sets it on the table between them.

“This is everything I had on me when I went into the ice.” He pulls out a water-damaged pocket-sized sketchbook and hands it to Bucky. Bucky flips through the pages. Hardly any drawings survived but Bucky recognizes a caricature of Dugan with his bowler hat and cigar.

Steve pulls out a pair of battered dog-tags. _Barnes, James B_. They’d swapped tags shortly after Azzano. Bucky wonders how long it took HYDRA to figure out their prisoner was a pissant sharpshooter and not the Star Spangled Man With a Plan himself. He hopes a couple of heads rolled because of it.

“Want them back?” Steve asks. Bucky shakes his head.

He dips his hand into the box and pulls out a familiar compass. He pops it open, knowing what he’ll find. Peggy Carter’s picture. Still a knockout. He gave Steve shit about the photo when he first noticed it. Steve didn’t speak to him for three days.

The final item in the box is a little silver ring. It’s only the width of a few hairs and badly tarnished. A tiny trinity knot marks the center.

“Remember that?”

“Your ma’s wedding ring.” How could he forget? Mrs. Rogers once hocked it to pay a doctor’s bill. Bucky, only eleven, skipped a week of school, selling papers on street corners to earn enough money to buy it back before Steve found out. When he gave it back to her, Mrs. R squeezed him so tight he thought he was going to suffocate. “What’s this about, Stevie?”

“I was frozen from 1945 to 2011.”

“I know. And?”

“I saw Peggy when I went back to 1970.”

“Oh. That must have been tough.”

Steve nods, lips pulled tight. “She was older than I remembered but still a knockout. She was doing her job. She was so good at it. She founded SHIELD. Did you know that?”

“I heard about that. She was quite a lady.” He’s still not sure what this has to do with the shoebox. Bucky had liked Peggy—eventually. At first, he thought she was just a pretty dame who’d caught Steve’s eye. Who’s head was turned by Mister Super Soldier. It didn’t take long to figure out there was more to her. Even if he still didn’t quite like her, he respected the hell out of her. She was a damn fine soldier. With a good head for tactics and _fearless_. She appreciated Steve, even before the serum. Learning that, was when Bucky started liking her. Steve had fallen hard for her. Seeing her again, then having to come back? Yeah, that would throw Steve for a loop.

“She was wearing that ring,” Steve says.

“What?” Bucky asks.

“In 1970. When it should’ve been under 300 feet of ice.”

“Are you sure it was the same ring?”

“It might not have been. She was on the other side of a window and across a room. But I know that ring. It was the same ring.”

“What does that mean? She found you in the ice and left you there? But took your ma’s ring? That doesn’t make sense.”

“No. I think—I think she and I were married.” Steve clenches his jaw.

“You were?”

“Or will be? Depending on how you look at it.”

“Time travel.” Bucky nods.

“Time travel,” Steve agrees.

Bucky sits back in his chair. “Fuck.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not. I know Peggy was married. That she had two children. I never found out her husband’s name. Or the kids. They aren’t in any of her files. Their identities were classified because of her position. I was able to find an engagement announcement. A colleague from the SSR. I can’t tell if they got married or not.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know what I can do.”

“Do you want it to be you? The husband?”

Steve opens his mouth a few times. He’s crying again. “I don’t know. I lose something either way.”

There’s a hollow ache in Bucky’s chest. If Steve is Carter’s husband, and it hasn’t happened yet, that means Steve goes into the past and doesn’t come back. No more Steve. They’ve had so little time together that wasn't consumed by a crisis. It hardly feels like they’ve spent more than fifteen peaceful minutes in each other’s company since 1941.

Bucky takes a deep breath. He picks up the ring and rolls it between his fingers. “Okay. We’re going to figure this out. Find out what we can about time travel. And about Carter. You still in touch with her niece?”

Steve’s cheeks flush. He shakes his head. _That’s a story_. They’ll get to the bottom of it. Maybe they already have. Maybe Steve goes back in time and marries his true love. Maybe Bucky loses Steve again. Or maybe Steve is wrong. Maybe his eyes aren’t as sharp as he thinks and it wasn’t his mother’s ring that he saw. Maybe Carter’s husband was a cheapskate who couldn’t be bothered to buy a proper gold band. Or maybe time travel works in mysterious ways and nobody loses a thing. And maybe Santa Claus and all his reindeer will fly out of Bucky’s ass to bring joy to the good little boys and girls of the world.


	2. Day One

The following morning they’re summoned to a place called the Sanctum Sanctorum. Steve lends them each a change of clothes.

“Is your shirt too tight?” Bucky whispers to Sam, as he pulls at his collar.

“Naw, but the pants are real saggy. How the hell does he have a fuller ass than I do?” Sam cranes his head, rotating to glimpse his own backside.

They take the subway to Greenwich Village. People keep coming up to Steve, telling him about the people they thought they’d lost. Some, who like Bucky, were recently dead, express confusion and gratitude. Steve is kind to every single one, even as they ask questions he can’t possibly answer.

They reach their stop and walk to a townhouse the size of the tenement building Bucky grew up in. The door is answered by a stocky Asian man.

“Doctor Strange?” Steve asks. The man shakes his head.

“Wong,” he says. “I am not the host. I am also not the doorman.”

“Okay,” Steve says.

“I have an important job. Essential.”

“Sure,” Steve agrees.

“I am _not_ the doorman. That bell rings again, someone else can get it.” Wong walks away, leaving Steve, Sam, and Bucky standing at the entrance. “Come on, up the stairs,” he beckons, impatiently.

They follow Wong up an enormous staircase. The place looks like a temple mixed with a library crossed with a museum and also a little like a fancy brothel. The air feels charged with something Bucky can’t identify. They reach the top floor. It’s full of people, some that Bucky recognizes, many he doesn’t. Most are sporting fresh bruises and dirt from the battle. Everyone looks exhausted.

The man who’d opened the portals yesterday steps forward and clears his throat.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Doctor Stephen Strange. I am the Sorcerer Supreme.”

Bucky is at the **S** anctum **S** anctorum listening to **S** tephen **S** trange the **S** orcerer **S** upreme while **s** itting between **S** am and **S** teve. He puts his head down, trying to suppress a fit of giggles. It’s not even that funny. _God, he’s tired._

“You okay?” Sam nudges him with his elbow.

“ **S** uper,” Bucky laughs, holding his side.

Steve starts laughing at Bucky’s laughter.

“Guys,” Sam whispers. “What the hell?”

“It’s **s** o **s** t- **s** tupid.” Bucky looks up, shaking with laughter. Most of the group has turned to stare. “I’m **s** orry. I know this is **s** - **s** erious.”

“Oh, I get it!” Thor explodes into booming laughter, setting off a chain reaction.

“Oh for fuck sake,” Doctor Strange groans. “Are you finished?” he asks after ten minutes of continuous laughter.

“ **S** ort of,” Steve says, laughing into his hand.

“ **S** oon,” Wanda snickers.

“You’re all children,” Strange shakes his head.

It takes another five minutes for everyone to settle down.

“Okay.” Strange sighs. “Where were we?”

“You told us your name,” the kid, Spider-man apparently, says. So many S’s.

“Right. No need to go into that again. I am a sor— a person who uses magic. I was also the custodian of an Infinity Stone. From what I have gathered, Thanos destroyed the Infinity Stones in 2018. And several of you went back in time, retrieved them, and used them to bring us back.”

“Pretty much,” Banner says. “Had to create time travel from the ground up. It was possibly the greatest scientific achievement of the last century. Not to brag.”

“Yeah, you can never do that again,” Strange says. “No more time travel. Unless you want to endanger all life on all planets at all times.”

Bucky lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. That’s pretty definitive. No future-past for Steve.

“Uh, not sure I agree, Doctor,” Banner interrupts. “We didn’t damage the timeline. We can’t, it’s fixed. Going back to our past didn’t change our past. It just created new timelines. Which we know is not great, but as long as we return the Infinity Stones to where we found them, the effects are minimal. The Ancient One confirmed it.”

Strange steps back, his composure slipping for a moment. “You spoke to the Ancient One?”

“Here, at the Sanctum. In 2012.”

Strange flicks his hands, illuminated circles appearing around his fists. He makes several quick gestures and a wave of golden light hovers before the group. “This is time.”

“Is it though?” Thor asks.

“This is a visual representation of the concept of time,” Strange corrects, wearily. “As you can see it flows forward, like a river.

“Ooh! Could you make a dam? A time dam?” asks a guy wearing headphones and a red leather jacket. Bucky has no idea who he is.

“A dam would block the flow of time, effectively stopping it. You do not want to stop time. Stopping time would be very _bad_.” Strange says, in his most condescending tone yet. “Moving on, for centuries the Sorcerer Supreme—” he is cut off by a round of giggles, “the person at the top of my order has safeguarded the Eye of Agamotto, also known as the Time Stone, and kept it from being misused.”

Wong coughs emphatically.

“When we have had an occasion to use it, only in the direst of circumstances, it does not disrupt the flow of time. Observe.”

At the end of the stream, a tendril snakes out from the main one. It turns green as it curves backward, slowly looping around and rejoining the original stream at the place it left. The green fades.

“However, time travel, in the manner that you went about it, results in this.” Another tendril breaks off turning red. It flows backward then shoots away from the stream. Creating a new line stretching off into the distance. “A new timeline. Too many of these new timelines and you get this.”

More and more thin red branches break away until the whole thing looks like an intricate, chaotic, road map. They spill over, intersecting and overlapping. The branches at the edge pulsated and shatter. The destruction moves inward, eventually reaching the original river. It too explodes, leaving sparks that briefly twinkle then fizzle out.

“Ending everything that is and ever has been.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” Scott Lang says. “But it was super cool to watch. Can you run it again to _Dark Side of the Moon?_ ”

“That would rule!” says red jacket man.

“This is Thanos coming from 2014 to 2023.”

A purple line breaks off of the stream it runs parallel to the main one then rejoins it without looping back.

“That is considered a resolved timeline. That’s a good result. One that does not cause time to shatter. It merged with this timeline and both sequences of events happened. Thanos wiped out half the universe in 2018 and was killed after destroying the Stones. And Thanos traveled to 2023 and was killed. It’s not ideal but it’s stable. This is what happened when you took the Infinity Stones.”

Six tendrils break off from the river at different spots. They run parallel to the stream and converge in the same place further on.

“So we shouldn’t return the Infinity Stones?” Rhodes asks. “Because the timelines are resolved?”

“Incorrect. The Infinity Stones are different. Nebula can kill her past self in the present without causing her current self to disappear. But the Stones were already destroyed in this timeline. They are aware that they should not be in it anymore. And they have the power to do something about it. They will try to course correct.”

The light show changes. The spots where the Stone were removed turn into holes.

“Reality will warp and splinter.” Thousands of jagged lines explode from the vacant spots causing the same destruction from earlier but at three times the speed.

“Unless you return them to where they were.”

“But going back again risks creating more timelines.” Banner sounds frustrated.

“It absolutely does, yes,” Strange agrees.

“So how do we return the Stones without breaking existence?” Steve asks.

“Very carefully. The Stones will want to go back to the appropriate place and time. They will assist you. If you don’t do anything stupid, don’t try to meddle with the past, it will look like this.”

The smooth golden wave returns, uninterrupted. A single timeline. “You won’t create a new timeline because everything you do will always have happened in this timeline.”

“Fuck,” Bucky says under his breath.

“Fuck,” Steve echoes.

“Which brings us to Loki,” Strange says.

“Loki?” Thor repeats.

“The team that went back to 2012 screwed up. They let Loki get away with the Space Stone. That new timeline did not converge back into this one. So there is already one offshoot that can’t be resolved. One that still has Infinity Stones. Every new timeline compromises the stability of all timelines. There cannot be any further time travel once the original Stones are returned. It’s too risky.”

“Agreed.” Wong nods.

“My brother didn’t die?” Thor says, his mouth creasing in a pained smile.

“He did, Thor. Your brother is dead,” Strange says.

“You just said he was alive,” the thunder god’s voice is shaky.

“There is a timeline where Loki escaped in 2012. Thanos is still part of that timeline. There is no way to know that he did not die in the same way.” Banner tries to calm him down.

“But in that 2012 my brother is alive. And my parents. Asgard hasn’t been destroyed. How do Iget to that timeline?”

“You’re already in it,” Banner whispers.

“I’m not.” Tears streak down his cheeks.

“Buddy, that timeline has a Thor.”

“One that doesn’t know what he has,” Thor argues.

“It’s not your timeline or your Loki.”

“I see.” Thor bites his lip. “Okay. I…” He gulps and leaves the room.

“I got this.” The raccoon that tried to buy Bucky’s arm follows him out. As does a tree-person that until this moment Bucky thought was part of the decor.

There’s an uncomfortable silence. _Poor guy._ Bucky can relate.

“How soon do we need to get the Stones back to where they came from?” Sam asks.

“Soon,” Strange says. “A few days at the most. At the same time, we shouldn’t rush it. We’ll need to decide who should return them. Whoever does will have the fate of the cosmos riding on their shoulders.”

Might as well put up a lighted arrow, pointing to Steve. _Fuck._

“Excuse me, everyone.” A woman with strawberry blond hair stands.

“Pepper,” Steve whispers to Bucky. “Tony’s widow.” That makes sense. She was the one in the armor yesterday.

“There’ll be a memorial for Tony at the lake house in two days. I’d like as many of you as are willing to be there. You are all welcome.”

There are murmurs of assent.

“Uh,” Barton rasps from the corner. “Nat once told me she didn’t want a big production when she was gone. But she liked my farm. She liked eating dinner in the yard. She liked watching me almost set my crops on fire with illegal fireworks. So if anyone wants to do that, you can come over tomorrow.”

More murmurs and the group disperses.

Sam leaves for his mother’s house, so they go back to Steve’s place alone. Steve spends the rest of the afternoon starting and restarting portraits of Natasha for tomorrow. Bucky knows to leave him to it. He finally finishes one he’s happy with after sundown. They eat cold ham sandwiches for dinner.

“So?” Bucky asks.

“It’s going to be me. I’m going to return the Infinity Stones,” Steve says, staring at his plate.

“I figured as much,” Bucky says.

“What I don’t know is if I come back once they’re in place or go further back.”

“I figured that too.” If Steve knew what he was going to do he wouldn’t be talking about it.

“If I was Peggy’s husband all along I have to stay in the past to keep the timeline intact.”

“That’s what it looks like yeah.”

“Because if I was the husband and I don’t stay in the past, I create a new timeline. Possibly preventing her—our children from being born. Strange says you can’t change the past, but when your future is in the past who the fuck knows? Regardless, it creates a new timeline. Putting everything Natasha and Tony died for at risk.”

“And if you weren’t the husband and you stay in the past?” Bucky asks.

“I stop Peggy from marrying the person she should have married. She doesn’t have the children she’s supposed to have. It’s a new timeline. Everything Tony and Natasha died for is at risk.” Steve shakes his head, looking tired.

“You know what this means, right?” Bucky asks.

“I have to figure out who Peggy’s husband was.”

“Yes, but more specifically, it means you have to call Sharon Carter.” Bucky grins.

“Oh god,” Steve groans, laying his head on his arms. Bucky moves his plate out the way, laughing.

“I’ve got to know. What the fuck happened there?”

Steve looks up, his cheeks scarlet. “I ghosted her. It means—“

“I can guess what it means. Why did you do it?

“It was so awkward!” he mumbles. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Peggy had just died. She was her niece. And I kissed her? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Got news for you, buddy. She might be your niece too.” Bucky takes a sip of water.

“Oh my god!” Steve moans. “She might be _my_ niece.”

“Okay,” he pounds his own chest to keep from choking, “when did you last speak to her?”

“2016. In Berlin. When I kissed her.”

“Jesus Christ, Stevie!” Bucky guffaws. “You’re pathetic.”

“A lot was going on. The accords. Tony. _You_. It was crazy.”

“Yeah, it was a crazy few days. And then?”

“Then I was an international fugitive. She’s a SHIELD agent. I didn’t want to compromise her.”

“Steve, c’mon. You could’ve found a way.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I could’ve. It’s just that, even putting aside the awkwardness of her being Peggy’s niece, every time I was about to call her, I realized I didn’t have a single thing to say.”

“Oh.” Bucky runs his fingers over the rim of his glass. “You’ve got something to say now, though.”

Steve grimaces. “Hey, sorry for kissing you and then not calling for seven years. Anyway, am I your uncle?”

Bucky doubles over laughing.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Steve laughs.

“ _You’re_ the only person I’d believe this happening to,” Bucky says.

“Jerk.” He kicks him under the table.

“Punk.” Bucky kicks back. “Okay, what the hell, I’ll do it. I’ll call Sharon for you.”

“You will?”

Bucky nods.

“You’re a really good friend, Buck.” Steve beams at him. An expression of such raw affection it simultaneously makes Bucky want to hurl himself out the window to escape it and to lock it inside a jeweled case that he can carry around with him for the rest of his life.

“I’m not that great.” Bucky shakes his head. “I just don’t want the fate of the universe hanging on your ability to speak to a woman.”

Steve cracks up, clutching his left side while throwing his head back and howling.

“Take it easy, pal. You’ll bust a lung.”

“It’ll be your fault.” Steve recites his side of their old routine, then adds, “My lungs are fine.”

“Guess they are. I’ll call Sharon tomorrow. While you’re at the thing for Natasha.”

“You’re not going?”

“I shouldn’t be there. I shot her in the stomach.”

“That wasn’t you. She didn’t hold it against you.”

“She was a good person, I’m sorry she’s gone, but tomorrow is for her friends. You go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

With Sam gone, Bucky gives Steve his bedroom back and moves into the guest room. He sinks onto the guest bed, laughing when he realizes that Steve put the better mattress in the guest room. Bucky still can’t sleep.


	3. Day Two

Sam picks Steve up the following day. Bucky waits until the car has disappeared from sight to make the call. He gets her voicemail.

“Hey Sharon, I’m not sure you’ll remember me, but this is Ben from Williamsburg.” Her calls may be monitored. If SHIELD doesn’t know about that time she helped a couple of fugitives escape justice, they aren’t going to learn it from him. “A friend introduced us a few years back. You gave me a ride to the airport.” Hopefully, that is enough to clue her in. If not, she’s in the wrong profession. “I don’t think you’re still in touch with him but I’m trying to do him a favor. You may be able to help. It would be great if you could call me back.” He leaves his number.

All he can do now is wait and see if she calls. He sends a few emails, eventually getting a reply from one of his former neighbors. The goats mostly survived. His land and property were redistributed after two years. He can't get it back but he may be able to apply for compensation. So he's homeless again. T’Challa and Shuri would help him if he asked, but they've got enough on their plates right now.

He wouldn't mind staying in Brooklyn, but not if Steve is leaving. Steve is leaving. The idea makes his stomach hurt. To distract himself he does several hundred push-ups, cleans Steve’s already clean apartment, then does several hundred sit-ups. He’s only killed two hours. He browses Steve’s bookshelves. _Good Omens_ , he could use some of those.

He takes it out to the fire escape and reads. It’s good, really funny, though he thinks there are a lot of references going over his head, but the sleepless nights have finally caught up with him. He nods off against the window. His phone rings a few hours later, waking him up. He answers the phone, his neck aching from the awkward position.

“I got your message,” Sharon says. “I appreciate the attempt to keep my involvement in Berlin under wraps, but it’s fine. SHIELD is aware of it and I’m still in good standing. So yes, Bucky, I remember you. I don’t usually forget people who I violated international law for.”

“Thank you for that. I probably should have said it a long time ago.”

“Honestly, _you_ get a pass on that one. You can tell Steve that if he’d called me he would’ve found out I was just as embarrassed and weirded out by the whole thing as he was.”

“You were?”

“I had such a crush and that kiss just _killed_ it! On second thought, if he had called I doubt I would’ve picked up.”

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

“Not on a technical level, but it felt like kissing the Gettysburg Address. Anyway, congratulations on coming back from the dead again.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s my thing now,” Bucky chuckles. Steve is an idiot. She’s not hard to talk to at all.

“Alright, the suspense is killing me. You mentioned a favor?”

“I’m going to ask you some questions about your family and I can’t explain why I’m asking.”

“Then I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“Fair enough.”

She answers most of his questions. At the end of the call, he doesn’t have conclusive evidence either way, but her words did paint a picture. He’ll discuss it with Steve and—

There's a manila envelope lying by the front door. Someone must have slid it under the door while he was asleep. It wasn’t there while he was cleaning the apartment earlier. Heart pounding, he picks it up. Steve’s name is printed on it, the work of a prewar typewriter.

The answer is in this envelope. Bucky is certain. He’s possessed by the sudden urge to light it on fire. He gets as far as turning on a burner on the stove, before getting himself under control. He lays the envelope on the counter unopened. Then goes into the guest room and bursts into tears.

Fine, if he’s going to have a meltdown, he’s going to have it before Steve gets home. He will not burden Steve with his grief. What will Bucky do without him? He has no one else. No one who cares about him, only people who pity him. He gets on his hands and knees and wails.

This is silly. He doesn’t even know if Steve is going yet. If he isn’t Peggy’s husband then Bucky is being a dramatic asshole over nothing. If he is Peggy’s husband then he has to go or the entire universe could collapse. Steve can’t know how much even the idea of him leaving tears Bucky up inside or he won’t go through with it.

Around eight, Steve texts that he’s on his way back. Bucky gets up and washes his face. He sets the table, Steve is bringing dinner with him.

“How was it?” Bucky asks, taking the casserole dish out of Steve’s hands.

“Awful. And beautiful. The fireworks were nice. Clint really did set a field on fire. Bruce stomped it out.”

They eat leftovers from the memorial.

“I talked to Sharon,” Bucky says, once it seems like Steve is ready to think about something other than his dead friend.

“What did she say?”

“You broke her heart. Never got over it, became a bride of Christ.”

Steve grimaces and laughs. “What did she really say?”

“That kissing you was like kissing the Gettysburg Address.”

“Buck, what did she really say?”

“Peggy was her great-aunt, not her aunt-aunt.”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“I didn’t. Anyway, she was in her sixties when Sharon was born. Sharon says the husband wasn’t around much when she was a kid. Usually away on business when she came to visit. He got sick when she was a teenager, cancer she thought. She remembers a bedridden old man.”

Steve thinks about it, clearly coming to the same conclusion Bucky had. That if Steve was the husband, he would’ve avoided ever appearing hale and hearty in Sharon Carter’s presence.

“Did she give you names?”

“Not the kids, they’re alive so their identities are still protected by SHIELD.”

“But she told you the husband’s name? So he’s dead?”

“In 2011. A few months before you came out of the ice.”

“Uh huh. So if it is me, I now know when I die. Or…”

“Or you were worried someone would see your newly-thawed face on the news and recognize you through the wrinkles,” Bucky finishes.

“What was his name.”

“Joseph.”

“Like my father.” Steve sighs. “And the last name?”

“Wilson.”

Steve laughs. “That’s not very subtle, is it?”

“Nope. But it’s also not so unusual that it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

“Right, we still don’t know anything. Not definitively.”

Bucky inhales. “There was a delivery while you were gone.” He stands and retrieves the envelope.

Steve turns it over in his hands a few times. “You didn’t open it?”

“It was for you.”

Steve uses his index finger as a letter opener. He pushes aside his plate and empties the contents onto the table. His face crumples.

It’s a handful of photographs. Most are grainy and faded with age. Bucky picks up the first. It’s black and white, a wedding photo. Steve and Peggy gazing adoringly at each other. There’s another from the same day, a petite woman with long, possibly blond, possibly red hair, stands next to Peggy. A tall man with a nervous expression stands behind Steve. “August 1953. Peggy and Steve. Matron of honor Ana. Best man Edwin” is written on the back. There’s a family photo from five years later. This one is in color, the happy couple and two small kids. The next is the same family again, but the kids are older. Finally a glossy photo of a much larger family. Seven children of various ages, two couples in their thirties, and at the center Steve and Peggy, both gone gray but still looking at each other fondly. It’s dated 1991.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, tears running down his cheeks.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says, managing a grin, despite the lump swelling in his throat.

Steve clenches his jaw, attempts a smile that dies on the vine, then pushes away from the table. He walks into his bedroom, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Bucky clears the table, putting the photos back in the envelope. He gets the ring from the shoebox, polishes it with a soft cloth, and sets it next to the envelope. He waits an hour to see if Steve needs to talk it out, then goes to bed.

He sleeps fitfully until he’s woken by a knock on his door. Steve’s eyes are puffy and he’s holding his arms tight to his chest. Not the image of a happy bridegroom. Bucky steps aside and lets him in. Once again, Steve’s fully clothed and Bucky is in his underwear. Well, Steve’s in a tank top and pajama bottoms, so not entirely dressed, but still more covered than Bucky. He has to go shopping soon. He can’t go on borrowing Steve’s clothes indefinitely.

“I can’t do it, Buck.” Steve shakes his head. “I can’t go back.” Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and Steve takes a seat on the floor, back pressed to the bed.

“Stevie, you survived German measles, pneumonia, and rheumatic fever, all before you were ten years old. You got your ass kicked three times a week for five years. You made it out of the war in one piece. You took on Thanos’s whole fucking army by yourself, _yesterday_. And you’re scared of tying the knot?” Bucky teases.

“I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do it.”

“I thought you loved Peggy.”

“I did. I think I still do,” he says, “but my life has changed so much since I last saw her. Hers must change too. She loved another man enough to get engaged to him. That means what? I break them up?”

“What year was the announcement from?”

“1949.”

“Your wedding photo said August 1953. So you go to January 1953 and hope he’s already out of the picture. If he’s not, you let her decide what to do about it.”

Steve sighs. “She thought I died. She moved on. She’s not going to want me.”

“We saw the picture. She married you, Stevie.”

Steve shakes his head again, drawing one knee to his chest. “How do I do it?”

“You find her and you tell her—”

“No! Not that. How do I live in the past? How do I raise my children in a time where people have fewer rights based on their race or sexuality? It’s not right.” He clenches his fist.

“No, it’s not. And you raise them to understand that it’s not right. They’re going to be part of the generation that changes that.”

Steve lets that sink in. He scowls. “I have to sit on my hands and let every terrible thing that happened in the last seven decades happen. Chernobyl, Nine-Eleven, Thanos. I could stop it all, except I can’t because it would start a new timeline and endanger everything.” Steve’s frustration is palpable.

Bucky nods. “Right, all of those happened. But what about the things that didn’t happen because you were there?”

“What?” Steve stares up at him.

“We know you went into the past and we know there were tragedies that you didn’t prevent. We don’t know how many tragedies you did prevent. Something bad happens between 1953 and now and you don’t know how it turns out, you go and you _help_. It doesn’t change this timeline because you being there and helping is part of this timeline.”

Steve processes that. “I didn’t— oh. Oh my god, Bucky. That might be…” He takes a long, stuttering breath. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“I’m going back to when you were being held by HYDRA. You were tortured and brainwashed and used. And I will know that it’s happening. What kind of piece of shit do I become that I don’t help you?” his voice breaks.

Bucky exhales. “You can’t.”

“I could. I could save you, but I _don’t_.”

“No, Steve, I mean it’s not possible to save me. Even if you say to Hell with preserving the timeline and you go and rescue that poor bastard, he won’t be _me_. You will be in a new timeline with some other Bucky and I’ll still be in this one. I’ll always have lived those years. Always have done the things I did. Nothing is going to change that. Not even Captain America.”

Steve starts crying in earnest.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers, ruffling Steve’s hair. “You did save me. Took a long time, but it already happened. Saved me from HYDRA. Saved me from the Soul Stone. As far as I’m concerned we’re square, Rogers.”

Steve rests his cheek on Bucky’s thigh. Bucky tenses. He doesn’t like to be touched. A quick hug or a clap to the shoulder, that’s alright, but prolonged touching makes his skin crawl. He’s still conditioned to expect pain. He shifts and starts to push him away until it dawns on him that he’s not uncomfortable. It’s actually nice. It’s Steve. Bucky lightly strokes Steve’s ear. They sit like that for a while then Steve turns his head, looking up at him through those long lashes.

“Come with me,” he says, sounding hopeful for the first time since returning from the memorial. “Neither of us were meant to be in this time. Come back with me.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. “No, Steve. I don’t have your discipline. I’d start messing up the timeline. Couldn’t stop myself. Besides, we know I didn’t go with you.”

“We _don’t_ know that,” Steve protests.

“Yeah, we do. In your wedding photo, your best man is some guy named Edwin. If I was there, do you really believe I’d let anyone else be your best man?”

Steve chuckles but his shoulders slump.

”I don't want to leave you. Any of you.”

”Don't think about who you're leaving. Think about who you’re joining.”

Steve sighs. ”It’s happening tomorrow. After Tony’s wake. Bruce has a new jump pad ready. The stones need to go back.”

Bucky nods. “Okay. Tomorrow it is.”

“Will you come? Not to the past, to the lake. I know things were bad between you and Tony but—“

“I’ll be there.”

Steve exhales. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. I’ll let you get back to sleep. Thanks.”

He heads for the door.

“Hey, Steve, I haven’t slept more than an hour or two since I’ve been back. Have you?”

Steve shakes his head.

“C’mere.” Bucky swings his legs onto the bed and makes room.

They used to share a bedroom before the war. They did have their own beds but Steve’s blood was so thin he’d shiver all night even at the height of summer. So, except on the nights he was burning up with a fever, Steve would crawl into Bucky’s bed for warmth. Bucky got used to it. The first week of basic, he’d barely slept because having a bed to himself felt so wrong. They’d even slept in one bed once they were in the same unit. Steve no longer ran cold, just the opposite, but it wasn’t like it was warm in the barracks and after Azzano Bucky found the familiarity of Steve dozing next to him comforting. The other commandos laughed at them. Two enormous guys in a tiny army cot.

Steve’s guest bed is four times the size of a cot, but Steve curls close to Bucky, fitting himself under Bucky’s armpit, legs tucked to his stomach to keep them from dangling. He shifts, getting comfortable, one of his hands grazes Bucky’s left nipple. An electric charge shoots through Bucky’s body. He gasps.

“Sorry, did I knee you?” Steve asks.

“I’m fine.” Bucky rolls onto his side, facing away from Steve. He _is_ fine, he just learned something about himself. Something he should’ve figured out a long time ago.

“Good night, Buck,” Steve mutters, voice heavy with sleep.

“‘Night, Steve,” Bucky whispers.


	4. Day Three

Bucky wakes up hard. Harder than he’s been in a very long time. Mercifully, he manages to get out of bed without waking Steve. He makes his way to the bathroom and turns on the shower.

“Holy shit,” he says, laughing. He’s attracted to Steve. Really attracted judging by the grain silo in his shorts. Is it just Steve or is it… Men. He is attracted to men. _Hooooooly shit._

Suddenly a whole lot of things that never quite added up make sense. He did have girlfriends once upon a time. He enjoyed the company of women, but he never felt a pull toward them. Women seemed to like him a lot. Maybe because he wasn’t constantly pawing at them. He had sex with a few. It was never unpleasant but it was better by himself, when his mind could wander to the previous night’s baseball game or that Gary Cooper western he saw last week— _how_ did he not figure it out sooner?

He gets into the shower, wishing Steve was getting in with him. Is that okay? Can he think about Steve in that way? Okay, obviously he _can_ , but should he? Steve is about to marry the love of his life. There’s no evidence that he’d appreciate being thought of. For Bucky to use him as an object of lust is… inappropriate.

 _Fuck it._ What Steve doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Bucky touches himself and thinks of kissing Steve. He imagines their bodies together. Steve’s big hands on his thighs. Bucky biting Steve’s shoulder. Steve looking at him the way he looked at Carter in those photos.

 _Son of a bitch._ It’s not just lust. He’s in love with Steve. That also explains a lot. Just his luck, figuring it out at the exact moment that Steve is leaving forever.

Shockingly, even that depressing thought can’t kill his erection. Alright, there’s plenty of time for his heart to break later, he’s got more pressing needs at the moment. He allows himself to picture every filthy thing he’s never going to do with Steve until he’s utterly spent.

He cleans himself up then washes away all traces of his indiscretion. He trims his beard and borrows Steve’s bathrobe, relishing the feel of it on his skin.

Steve is sitting at the table when Bucky enters the kitchen. He looks up and smiles, hitting Bucky with the full force of those bluer-than-blue eyes. It takes every ounce of strength Bucky has not to drop to his knees and beg him to stay.

“There’s coffee and toast,” Steve says. Bucky pours a cup and loads his plate. “Sam’s picking us up in an hour. He’s bringing a suit you can wear to the wake.”

“Good. You going to tell him what you’re doing?”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t take any more goodbyes. Will you explain it to him when I don’t come back?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll look out for him?”

“He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need a chaperone.” He’s better equipped to be independent than Bucky is.

“No, I know. I just like the idea of you having each other’s backs once I’m gone.”

“I’ll look out for Sam, but do you have to put it like that? You’re not dying.” It just feels like it.

“Yeah, of course, sorry. Have you thought about what you’re going to do? Are you going back to Wakanda?”

“The farm is gone. There’s nothing left for me there. Maybe hire myself out as an assassin. It’s my only marketable skill.”

“Buck!” Steve is horrified. “Don’t do that to yourself. You deserve a life. You’re more than—”

“Relax, Steve. That was a joke. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll figure something out. Bag groceries if I have to.”

Steve let’s out a breath. “This place is yours if you want it. I own the whole building. The first two floors are empty. I thought if we ever found a way to bring everyone back, you and Sam could…” He lets that thought hang. “You can rent them out. It’d be a steady income. The building is in good shape, just needs light maintenance. You were always good at that.”

Bucky is silent for a minute.

“You don’t have to decide right away. You wouldn’t have to live here if you don’t want to. Or you can sell it if you want.”

“I’ll take it.” Look at him, a New York City land baron. “But if you want it to seem less like you’re dying, stop giving away your worldly possessions.”

Steve signs the deed over to him. Sam arrives a little later with a suit at least one size too small for Bucky.

“I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t do this to mess with you,” Sam says, trying hard not to laugh at the gaping buttons and straining seams. “I really thought you were my cousin’s size. I guess you seem smaller when I can’t see you.”

“I don’t know how to take that.” Bucky shakes his head. “I really don’t like this,” he mutters under his breath. It feels too much like the restraining buckles and straps he was forced to wear as an asset.

Steve only owns one black suit and he’s wearing it. He looks through his wardrobe for something for Bucky and comes up with a black leather jacket, black jeans, and a white tee shirt.

Bucky doesn’t feel great about showing up to a funeral dressed like a greaser, but the alternatives are wear the straight-jacket suit and risk a PTSD episode or refuse to go and not be there when Steve leaves forever.

They drive away from the city, arriving a few hours later at a very expensive looking house by a lake. At least his outfit isn’t all wrinkled after the long trip.

“Thor is wearing Crocs, so I think you’re good,” Sam reassures him as they emerge from the car.

The wake isn’t as awkward as Bucky was expecting. No one acts like he shouldn’t be there, and while a lot of the mourners are close friends and family of the deceased a few seem to have only met him once. In fact, Shuri tells him she never met the man but is attending to honor his role in bringing everyone back to life and defeating Thanos.

It feels right that Bucky pay his respects as well, even if the only time he and Stark came face to face they literally tore each other to pieces. Not that Bucky blames him under the circumstances. Bucky stays out of the way while one by one people share stories about Tony Stark. They seem to really love him. Bucky can't help wondering what kind of send-off Steve and the Howling Commandos gave him after he fell from the train.

Following a message from the dead man himself, the entire party gathers by the lake for a final goodbye. And then it’s over. Which means it’s almost time… Barton pulls Steve aside to tell him something about the Soul Stone. Steve goes inside to change. Bucky watches from a distance as Bruce preps the Quantum-blah-blah-whatever machine.

“You okay?” Sam asks. “You’re acting squirrelier than usual. Which is saying something.”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He’s not okay. He’s losing Steve. He’s miserable, but pushing in at the edges of his misery is an odd joy at finally understanding such an essential piece of himself. He can’t tell Sam any of that. Actually, he can tell him one part of it.

“I’m… uh… I’m a queer,” he says.

“Oh,” Sam nods. “Okay. Thanks for telling me. You know, these days people just say queer or gay. Leave off the ‘a.’”

“Oh.” Bucky didn’t know many gay people before the war, at least not ones who’d talk about it. He’s got a lot to learn. “Are you?”

“Am I gay?No, I’m mostly straight.”

“Mostly?”

“I experimented a bit when I was younger. I could kiss a guy all day, but I never got used to having some dude’s balls in my face.” Sam shrugs. “Does Steve know?”

“No.”

“You told me before you told him? Aw, you like me best.” Sam nudges him with his shoulder.

“Shut up. No, I don’t.” Bucky jostles him back.

“Yes, you do. I’m your favorite.” He tries to knock Bucky off balance.

“Slander! I can’t stand you.”

They bump against each other, locked in mock battle for a tiny patch of ground. Steve emerges from the house, geared up for his journey. He pauses, grinning at their horseplay. Bruce beckons him to take the suitcase containing the Infinity Stones. Sam goes to Steve and offers to go with him. Steve refuses. He walks up to Bucky, a determined expression slipping into place.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” he quips.

Bucky smiles, trying to match Steve’s bravado but his insides feel like they’re crumbling to sand. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Steve hugs him. Bucky pats his back, willing himself to let go.

“I love you. Don’t leave me.” Is what he wants to say.

“I’m gonna miss you, buddy.” Is what he does say.

“It’s going to be okay, Buck,” Steve says. Bucky wonders which of them he’s trying to convince. He turns and steps onto the pad. He taps his wrist, making the time travel suit shimmer into place.

“How long is this going to take?” Sam asks.

“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds,” Bruce answers. Steve picks up Thor’s hammer and confirms that he’s ready. Bruce counts down and Steve vanishes.

Bucky inhales. It feels like a part of himself being violently torn away. But it’s hardly the first time that’s happened. Bruce counts again, Steve doesn’t reappear. Sam and Bruce yell, Bucky turns to go, then freezes. There’s a familiar figure sitting on a bench facing the lake. _What do you know?_ He came back.

“Sam,” Bucky says. Sam turns and sees him too. They start walking together but Bucky pauses. “Go on,” he says. He didn’t come back. He’s been here all along. He watches Sam approach the old man on the bench. They talk. Steve gives him the shield. Sam looks to Bucky before he’ll pick it up. They shake hands and Sam returns.

“You knew?”

“I knew some of it.”

Sam shakes his head. “That’s going to take getting used to. I’m going to let the others know. Tell me when you’re ready to leave.”

“Okay.”

Sam and Bruce walk off. Steve still sits by the lake. Eventually, Bucky gets his feet to work.

“Joseph Wilson, I presume?”

“Hi, Buck.” There’s gravel in it but it’s still Steve’s voice. He pats the bench. Bucky sits.

“You look so young.” He sighs.

“You don’t.”

Steve smiles, shaking his head. “I know. I’m a codger.”

“I was going to say crusty old geezer.” Bucky nods.

“God, I missed you.” Steve laughs.

“Didn’t have time to miss you,” Bucky lies. “How old are you now?”

Steve thinks. “Not counting the years in the ice? 109. Including them 175-ish. The most accurate answer is old as balls.”

Bucky cracks up. _Thank God_ , he’s still Steve.

“Was Peggy happy to see you?” He asks once he’s caught his breath.

“It was a bit of a shock. It took a while to convince her it was really me. Once she believed me, she wouldn’t let me tell her too much. Didn’t want to jeopardize the timeline.”

“And the fiancé?”

“Husband actually. She married him. Died on assignment in ’51. A good man by all accounts. She wasn’t eager to remarry”

“But?”

“We got to know each other again. As who we’d become in the years since the war. We fell in love, got married, had two wonderful children. Ana Sarah Rogers and James Daniel Rogers. Though all their paperwork says Wilson.”

“James, huh? Named for anyone special?”

“Yeah, Rhodey is a pretty great guy.” Steve laughs, his eyes crinkling.

“You’re a punk,“ Bucky mutters.

“I’m too old to be a punk.”

“You’ll always be a punk. Did the kids know you as Steve or Joseph?”

“They knew who I really was but not about the time travel. They thought I faked the plane crash. They knew they had to keep my real name quiet but they didn’t know why. They grew up, had kids of their own, didn’t learn the truth until 2011 when Captain America was discovered under the ice. Ana stopped speaking to me for a while. I’d lied to her for her whole life, she was angry. They both were but James took it a little better. Then Peggy got sick.” Steve’s lip trembles.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers.

“I knew it was coming. She knew I knew. Didn’t make it any easier. It’s been seven years and I miss her every damn day.”

They’re quiet for a while.

“You gave the shield to Sam?” Bucky breaks the silence.

“Why? Did you want it?” Steve chuckles.

“No, but you could’ve asked. And Sam? Really?”

“Sam will do a good job.”

“Not saying that he won’t, but I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“I missed you both so much. These last five years have been bad. I lived through the snap all over again. I lost James, three of my grandkids, two great-grandkids. Gone, just like that.” He snaps his fingers.

“Oh my god.” Bucky doesn’t know what else to say.

“They’re back now. The only thing that made any of it bearable was knowing we were going to win. That all of them were coming back, including you. But my god it was lonely. There were a few times I even considered paying a visit to myself.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I remembered that I didn’t. Besides, I never much cared for my own company.”

“You delivered the photos to the apartment, didn’t you?”

“Had to. Couldn’t let that idiot screw up my life. I saw you, you know? Yesterday. You were asleep on the fire escape. I wanted so badly to wake you up to say hello.”

“What stopped you?”

“Figured you would’ve told me if I had.”

“Not if you asked me not to.”

“Well shit,” Steve shakes his head, “I didn’t think of that.” He laughs, wheezing a little. “I’ve got something for you.”

“For me?”

He pulls a letter-sized envelope from his jacket. Bucky’s name is written in elegant handwriting.

“It’s from Peggy.”

Bucky looks at the intact seal. “You didn’t open it?”

“It was for you.”

Bucky tears it open and reads.

_Dear Bucky,_

_Steve has told me so much about you, I feel like we are very dear friends. Much more so than when we knew each other. My heart broke when he told me what happened to you. I am so glad that you finally broke free._

_I won’t let Steve tell me how much time I have left but I don’t think it’s much. I’m grateful that it won’t be a long decline. I wanted to write to you while I was still me._

_Thank you._

_Steve told me how hard it was for him to come back to me. That he probably wouldn’t have if you hadn’t worked through it with him. If you hadn’t figured out he could still help the world without risking the timeline. I owe you a great debt. So many years of happiness._

_Not all happy all of the time. There were times when Steve would go quiet and sad and I knew he was remembering what he left behind in the future. Knowing you were out there being abused and not being able to do anything about it was agonizing for him._

_I don’t know how he’ll feel about me telling you this next part, but I’m going to. Steve is in love with you._

Bucky stops reading, blinking at the page. He looks up at Steve but he’s staring at the water. He returns to the letter.

_It took him three decades to admit it to me. Not because he was ashamed at having feelings for a man, but because he thought it was disrespectful to our relationship. But I understand that you can love more than one person at a time. I still love my first husband even though he has been gone for over sixty years. I knew what he felt for you before he told me. I could tell from the way he spoke about you. I don’t know how you feel about him. If you ever loved him in the same way or if you can now that he is so much older. But I want him to be happy. I always have. If you can, if you do, you have my blessing._

_Peggy_

Bucky exhales and folds the letter, putting it in his pocket. Steve turns to look at him.

“She was a hell of a woman,” Bucky says.

“She sure was.”

Bucky stares at him. The serum running through his veins has kept him from aging at the normal rate. His face is lined and his hair is white. His eyes are still blue. He looks like Steve, just a little older. Maybe in his sixties at the most. He could have another four decades in him. Bucky reaches up and touches his cheek. He leans in and kisses him. A gentle, tentative kiss but it still makes Steve gasp.

“I’m… I’m old, Buck.”

“So am I.” Bucky shrugs. “Not as old as you, but not a kid.” He takes Steve’s hand in his and puts it to his heart. “I love you, Steve. I want you to stick around and let me catch up to you. Will you do that for me?”

Steve nods, tears welling in those absurdly long lashes.

“Good.” Bucky presses a kiss to his knuckles. Of course, Steve doesn’t have to stay this old if he doesn’t want to. Not when they still have the technology that turned Scott into a baby and back. Bucky doesn’t really care. He’ll take Steve however he can get him.

“My god.” Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “For so long I’ve known exactly what was going to happen. Suddenly I have no idea.”

“Is that okay?” Bucky asks.

“It’s amazing.” Steve laughs a jubilant laugh that takes years off of him.

“What do you say, old-timer? Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Make it tea. Coffee aggravates my ulcers.”

“Super soldiers can get ulcers?”

“They can when they’ve been in hiding for seventy years.”

“Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. Hope everyone enjoyed it. It certainly made me feel better about the end. Now Marvel just has to not ruin it.


End file.
